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He ran his little skiff in cleverly alongside the wharf, lowered sail, and carefully taking up a toy ship, stepped ashore and started toward the tavern.

The toy was a miniature ship, fully rigged and under sail, an exquisite specimen of workmanship, for from keel to truck there was nothing missing, and every rope and sail, even to a tiny flag, the Stars and Stripes, was in place.

He had nearly reached the group of youths, who had threatened to lower his pride a peg or two, when a seaman met him and called out:

“Ho, lad, who built that craft you have there?”

“I did, sir,” was the modest reply.

“Well, if you did you are a born sailor, that is all, for I never saw a cleaner built craft, or a better rigged one. Are you a deep water sailor, my lad?”

“I have been to sea, sir; but I am only a coaster now.”

“And what are you going to do with that pretty toy?”

“I am going to ask landlord Rich of the tavern to buy it of me, sir.”

“Why do you sell it?”

The lad’s face flushed, and after a moment he said: